


A Message in a Miracle

by Howlingdawn



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn
Summary: In the wake of an angel attack, Marlowe is nearly overwhelmed by the implications of being the mother of a Nephilim.Until her unborn daughter sends her a little message.(Whumptober Day Ten - Trail of Blood)
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter & Lily Nora Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter/Marlowe Viccellio, Marlowe Viccellio & Lily Nora Lassiter
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949191
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	A Message in a Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've had this AU idea in my head since last year? So I FINALLY wrote something for it. And for my Psych OTP. I cannot BELIEVE I've never written Carlowe before. I need to do it more

Only when the sounds of battle died down did Marlowe risk leaving the bunker.

She had wanted to leave sooner. Hell, she never wanted to be _in_ there. Despite their best efforts, it remained as dark and cold as it had been when it was empty, every wall painted in warding that kept her husband out, all too harsh a reminder of the true purpose of the bunker.

Holding her breath as the metal door creaked open, she scanned the backyard for danger, but, seeing not so much as a single crushed blade of grass, she darted across the exposed area to reach the backdoor.

It was closed, locked, undamaged – nobody had made it past Carlton.

She forced a smile, trying to make herself stay calm. “I told you your daddy would protect us,” she whispered, rubbing her belly with the hand not holding her gun.

But the words scraped against her throat. She was a hunter, born and raised, and she was damn good at it. She knew the lore by heart, had saved countless people, and killed countless more monsters. And her success had only grown since the angels fell, almost literally dumping Carlton – Lassiel back then – into her lap after she pulled off the road to watch the spectacle, giving her a partner in every sense of the word. They took care of each other. They protected each other.

Until now.

_It’s not your fault,_ she could hear Carlton saying as she pulled open the door. _To protect the baby, I must fight alone. It’s all right._

Beyond the untouched door, their home – their home they had worked so hard to make perfect in the months since discovering her pregnancy – was destroyed. The dining table they had bought on a hunt in San Francisco – cracked down the middle. The framed photograph of her first ultrasound – shattered. The pile of baby clothes they had meant to take upstairs earlier – scattered.

_Focus, Marlowe._

Taking her hand off her baby bump to better grip the gun, loaded with bullets forged from a melted-down angel blade, she strode deeper into dining room.

Hidden behind a broke chair, she spotted a splash of the blood – the beginning of a trail.

As if sensing her spike of worry, her unborn daughter kicked.

“It’s ok,” Marlowe whispered, as much to herself as her baby. “I’m sure Daddy’s fine.”

_He has to be._

_Otherwise you’ll probably be born an orphan._

Willing her hands not to tremble, finding it more difficult to keep her aim steady than she ever had on her hardest hunts, she moved forward. The trail led her out of the dining room, through the kitchen, and into the-

She froze.

Jutting out from behind the living room’s wall was a pair of feet, and just beyond them… the shadow of angel wings, burned into their floor and furniture.

Shaking her head harshly to banish the horrid imaginings flashing through her mind, she rounded the corner in a sharp spin, sweeping her gun around the room, but all she saw amidst the continued destruction were two dead angels.

_How many did they send after one Nephilim?_ she wondered, fear digging its claws deeper into her heart.

_Later,_ she scolded herself firmly. _Find Carlton._

She picked her way past the bodies, climbing the stairs, trying to look at the blood trail with the tactical eye of a hunter, not the terror of a wife. But the memories flitting around her head – choosing Lassiel’s human name, teaching him how to cook, listening to him tell her about the stars, their first kiss after a hunt nearly killed her – made it nigh impossible to squash down her emotions.

The blood trail led into the nursery.

_Oh, God._

She closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Then she kicked down the door.

Carlton lay sprawled on the floor, the crib smashed behind him. Another angel lay beside him – close enough to her husband that she couldn’t tell whose wings were burned into the carpet.

“Carlton!”

She dropped to her knees beside him, dropping her gun, fumbling for a pulse.

He bolted awake in her hands, gasping, hand flying up to grab her wrist.

“Shh,” she soothed instantly, laying her hand over his. “They’re all dead. We’re fine.”

Carlton looked around before nodding, letting out a breath of relief, laying his hand on Marlowe’s belly. Their daughter kicked, making him smile weakly. “She was worried about me.”

“We both were,” Marlowe said, helping him find a more comfortable position to lie in. Beginning to take stock of the cuts and stab wounds littering his body, frustrated helplessness once again swamped over her. “I should’ve been here.”

“No,” Carlton reassured her instantly, the same refrain he had given her again and again as they made these defense plans. “They wouldn’t hesitate to kill you to stop our daughter’s birth. You staying in the bunker isn’t weakness – it’s doing what it takes to protect her.”

“I hate it,” Marlowe said, pressing a hand over a stab wound in his stomach leaking white light. “I hate not being able to-”

Silver light glowed beneath her palm. She blinked, startled, but at the same time, a sense of… warmth washed over her, gentle and steady, a welcome respite from the stress of the fight.

The power faded in just a few seconds, leaving Carlton fully healed. He sat up slowly, just as stunned as Marlowe. “What was that?”

“Our daughter,” Marlowe breathed, looking down at her. “She healed you.”

A smile began to grow on Carlton’s face. “I knew Nephilim were powerful, but… I feel like I just met her for the first time.”

“Me too,” Marlowe murmured.

Carlton pulled her into a hug, and with their daughter’s soothing warmth still lingering within her, it was easy to let herself melt into it. “I think she just told us that everything will be ok,” he said, running his fingers softly through her hair.

Just a few minutes ago, this pregnancy and all of its implications had been overwhelming. An angel and a hunter were set to be parents. Every other angel left in the world would want their daughter dead. And no mother had ever survived birthing a Nephilim.

But now, there was only quiet confidence. Quiet confidence that of course they would survive. Of course no attacker would succeed. Of course they would find a way to save her.

It wouldn’t be easy, but they would do it.

She kissed Carlton’s cheek, lingering tenderly over the touch. “I think she’s right,” she whispered.


End file.
